The Weight
by Orokid
Summary: "She could only see the ring on her finger, weighing her down, a painful reminder that she had nearly done something she wouldn't be able to reverse."  Faberry/Faberittana-friendship


_**Orokid**__: So this actually came from several feelings- one being listening to Miranda Lambert's song "Dear Diamond", where the singer thinks about choosing between honesty in a failing relationship or the ring on her finger and a man she knows would always be faithful despite herself. It's definitely an interesting song, if anyone is interested in listening to it. Another part of the feelings? The episode of On My Way, in which this fic is supposed to follow after. So, hopefully, we get to see something like this when a new episode finally airs… because all of my Faberry feelings will make me burst if they don't._

_**Disclaimer**__: I own nothing of Glee. If I did, Tina would ship Faberry like Mike, Finn would have been in the car accident instead, and Brittany would have lines other than self-mocking one-liners that really aren't that funny anymore. But, since I don't, that's why I write fan fiction, and I get nothing in return other than self-satisfaction._

**The Weight**

The waiting room was large, painted the usual white bland colors that usually gave off the air of cleanliness and care, of the staff that was bustling around them and throughout the hospital. The usual mill of doctors and nurses walked about just outside the door separating them, although she could hear the tell tale sounds of things that would grip at her heart hard and furiously. The echo of code colors in the hallway just outside, the sound of rooms being named with each one, men and women wearing lab coats with names and titles stitched in jogging or walking to their destination in mind. It was hectic, and she had been sitting in this room devoid of anything happy and remotely pleasant for almost twenty hours or more now.

Then again, most of them have been- at least, those who didn't leave every hour or so to grab a meal or to go home and sleep, have a life that she just couldn't attempt right then. It honestly seemed as if only three people remained, unwilling to leave, a part of them unable to retch themselves from the seats that they had taken hours and hours ago. She was one of them, dressed still in the gown that was supposed to bring her the ultimate joy of wedded bliss, unable to gather enough energy to even change out of it despite the numerous comments about it that she'd overheard her friends make in the distance. It almost felt as if everyone was standing far away, talking miles from where she sat. Even when they were leaning before her, offering to get her something from a nearby fast food joint or to see if she wanted a ride home yet, the words echoed in her mind, her heart having hallowed itself in the hours that had come after the call. She had just barely heard the hoarse voice of the Latina bitch them out for bothering them, for being insincere, for being everything under the sun except useful- but there was a part of her heart that had agreed, having been unable to even look at the tall young man who had been trying to do everything he could to help her through this.

No, she could only see the ring on her finger, weighing her down, a painful reminder that she had nearly done something she wouldn't be able to reverse. Her heart ached within her chest, taking in the sparkle that caught on the dim hospital lighting, the way the silver band glimmered with hope despite the world crashing down around her. She was falling apart, and this ring was doing nothing to keep her together like she had always thought it would, hoped it would. When bad things happened, he was supposed to be the one to console her, to tell her things would be alright… and yet, she was inconsolable, blame heavy on her mind as she pointed the only finger she could- to herself, toward her own selfishness to finally call something her own.

Even when she now was questioning if she had ever really wanted it.

She was supposed to be happily married, gladly taking her first steps as a full member of the Hudson family, but nothing in her felt as though she could even manage this now. She could just barely keep herself from feeling as miserable as she truly did, and she couldn't keep herself from blaming the small diamond rock on her finger for the mess she was in now. If it hadn't existed, then _she_ would be fine- she, the young woman who had been rushing to her side, to be there when the girl had long come across as a non-supporter of the entire arrangement. _She_ wouldn't be lying in surgery for the umpteenth hour in a row, doctors attempting to save the life of a beautiful teenager who hadn't deserved such a fate. She would be sitting there with her, laughing silently about how everyone just didn't seem to understand the actual terror that should fill all their hearts.

The brown haired girl couldn't help but wish that the man who had given her this ring had been in that car instead. It was a terrible thought, one she shouldn't be thinking about her fiancé considering the situation at hand- but he had been pushing her to start the wedding, and _he_ was forcing her to continually text _her _in hopes that maybe the blond might hurry, might make it on time for the wedding of her close friend. And now, as she found herself mourning what could be her loss, pained and hallowed brown eyes, she couldn't stop thinking about how she could stand to lose him- just not the one she was currently waiting to hear the condition of.

God, she had been such a fool for so long, realizing only now that she really didn't love him the way he deserved to be- and that her heart seemed to actually belong to someone else, someone who was waning on the point between living and dying. Her hand seemed to grow all that much heavier under the weight of the promises she had made when she had said that she would marry him, stuck in the wake of her new knowledge without any way to actually share it. She choked quietly on a sob she couldn't yet let out, afraid that if she started, she would never stop, and that if she did, that would mean that she had given up on the strength of the young woman who was probably flat lining as the brunette sat there helplessly, unable to do more than worry and wonder if she'd ever see the beautiful girl walk in and out of her life just as she'd always done.

A hand rested quietly on her shoulder, and she yanked her gaze from the weighted ring around her finger. Blue eyes watched her, understanding her far more than anyone else did, far more than anyone else thought this dancer could with anyone. "Santana's dad just came in," the blond stated quietly, their conversation soft despite carrying the heaviness of all her hopes and prayers within them. It was the first time that she had even looked at the girl, knowing that both she and her lover had been the only other two who refused to leave this devoid and colorless waiting room, and the russet haired girl could see the sleeplessness that probably echoed within her own gaze. Still… there was a subtle joy within them, just barely peeking out from behind the despair they all must feel, even though tears seemed to have gathered at the base of her usually cheerful gaze. "He said that she's gonna make it."

The young Jewish girl felt a weight she had been carrying flutter from her shoulders, although they were still weighed down by the facts that this truly was her fault. No matter what anyone told her, this would always be her fault, and she would always lay blame at her door alone and no one else's. Not even at the slightly intoxicated and speeding driver of the truck who had hit the young woman, the man who had simply walked away with a bump on his head and a broken front bumper on his vehicle. Still… at the very least, she was going to make it, she was going to live another day and no one- not even God- was going to take her away from her.

"Santana wants to know if you wanna come over tonight," the girl before her continued finally, noticing that the girl's mind had wandered for a moment after hearing the news. Whose wouldn't, considering the situation? "Cause we can't see her tonight anyway. Visiting hours were over a few hours ago." Yet, as the brunette took in the words in which the blond had said, the girl in a wedding dress that would end up never used after this felt a wave of things that she couldn't quite name- gratefulness, adoration, sadness, happiness, hope- and tears slipped past the hold that she had long made to keep them out. "You shouldn't be alone tonight, Rachel." The taller girl reached out, placing a hand on her own, the girl's paler fingers curling around it protectively in a way that no one else seemed to manage since they'd all come running at the news. "Not when someone you love is in the hospital." The brunette felt a laugh as she choked back another sob, a few more tears shaking free from behind the mask she wore. Of course the dancer would have known, having been in tune with things like emotions while the rest of their peers continued to treat the girl as if things like math and such mattered more. If only they knew…

Silently, she conjured up the energy to nod, her neck and body stiff after remaining in the same position for so long. "Okay." Her voice was hoarse, much more than she liked since she had long believed that disuse and overuse only worsened her chances at the future she'd longed for since she was just a child. But, of course, no one could have prepared her for this, where words meant just as much as actions did- absolutely nothing.

For the first time, it didn't even bother her that she was opening herself up for anything that could come her way, even on the property of a girl who had said and done so many things that would force any normal student into the fear she should have felt. Still, she had long believed that second chances were meant to be given, and, with the knowledge about how much the three of them truly needed the sleep, she doubted that anything might happen to prove her trust in them both.

Tomorrow…

Gently, carefully, the eighteen year old diva slipped the ring off her finger, knowing that she couldn't very well face the day if she was held down by a promise she could no longer keep. If she did… she'd only be lying to him about things she could no longer reciprocate.


End file.
